


Poor Landing

by onlymostlydead



Series: as of yet unnamed series [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Use, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Explicit Sex, Pre-Canon, Rape, Whump, me @ my brain: u okay there buddy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlymostlydead/pseuds/onlymostlydead
Summary: Lilith, she who tamed the beasts of the night; she who owns a tame angel of the Lord.
Relationships: Lilith/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: as of yet unnamed series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782928
Comments: 18
Kudos: 36





	Poor Landing

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE HEED THE TAGS.
> 
> Also would like to thank the kind folks over at Filii Hircus for patting my back along the way writing this fic <3 (and continuing to do so)

He blinks. Or at least… he thinks he’s blinking. The darkness is so all-consuming that it is hard to tell sometimes. Well, except when they glue his eyelids closed. Or when they cut them away entirely.

He supposes he should be grateful that they left his eyes alone this time. His tongue had not been so fortunate, however.

That was the price he had to pay. For saying the wrong thing. Again.

He would never learn. He was cast down from Heaven for speaking out of turn; for expressing his opinions. As if he had a right to his own thoughts. A right to Free Will.

His shoulders twinge from the cold seeping into him from the hard, damp floor. A constant agony since they had removed his wings, slicing away the underlying muscles with them.

He’s become a weak, pathetic excuse of an angel. He was a soldier of God; the Venom of God. He had carried out the Creator’s will and had formed the stars. Now what is he?

He is nothing. He is Mistress Lilith’s, and nothing more. He wants to weep, at the last memory of Heaven, of his family. Who had all done nothing while he Fell and burned. Merely watching him scream with cold indifference in their eyes.

He’s tired of crying, he’s scared of crying. He’ll be punished for it if he’s caught, when he’s caught. The tears come anyway, burning shameful trails down his soiled face. He stifles a sob with his fist. He can’t quite flex it all the way with his mangled hands.

The metal door creaks, a sliver of dull light cutting across his cell. It brings into focus the misery of his existence. Soft padding of feet, then there’s Mistress Lilith, bending over him.

She thumbs away his tears while he instinctively recoils; then he presses into her hand like how he’s been trained. “Oh, Angel,” she says, voice like honey. “It’s been so very long. I missed you, my darling pet.”

He tries to politely greet her, but all that comes out of his worthless mouth is a disgusting gurgle. Mistress Lilith’s face goes blank, and she wraps her deceptively dainty hand around his throat. She squeezes until he can no longer breathe; until a different darkness creeps up around his vision.

Then she releases him, and her hand is replaced with an all too familiar pronged collar. She attaches the polished chain and yanks him to his feet while he gasps for breath. “Come, Pup. Let’s take you for a walk.” Her tone is harsh now.

He stumbles after her, into Hell’s dim landscape. His eyes water at the increased light. A flurry of ash swirls around him, and he coughs.

Hell’s denizens jeer and run their hands across his naked flesh as he passes. The corridors are lined with doors that he’s never been in. The ash sits heavy in his lungs.

Mistress Lilith leads him away from the doors, to the pools. She places a hand low on his back when he stops beside her, and she pushes him forward. “Bathe,” she commands.

The demons that inhabit the pools chitter excitedly and gather around him as he descends into the stagnant water. Their webbed hands scrub and stroke him sensually in turn, never going too far by virtue of their queen’s presence. They leave nothing untouched, and soon his filth clouds around him, and Mistress Lilith jerks the chain to signal the end of his bath. He exits, his skin burning where they touched. He paradoxically feels more unclean than before.

Mistress Lilith runs her smooth hands over his pale, ravaged body; inspecting the demons’ handiwork and appreciating his assets. She slows over his chest, and traces the raised flesh over his heart with her finger, a long nail catching over the uneven lines. She hums thoughtfully, “It appears it’s time to refresh my signature, wouldn’t you say?”

He resists the urge to run away on his shaking legs, instead nodding in agreement. She sighs, “I wish you hadn’t forced me to remove your tongue. I do love the things you can do with it.” She glances downward, then back up to his eyes with a smirk, “But you have other ways to please me, don’t you, Angel?” He nearly wishes he was back in the dark.

“Come,” she pulls the chain with a rattle, “We have business to attend to first.” He obediently limps after her. Painstakingly making sure to stay close enough to keep slack in the lead.

* * *

He stands next to her throne, a hard thing made of jagged stone that sits in front of his mounted wings. He’s drawn to their Light, but he must not look. He will be punished if he is nothing but silent and still in the presence of the queen’s court. The demons eye him unabashedly, a piece of meat to be salivated over; and he must stand exposed for all to see. It is a reminder of their queen’s power. Lilith, she who tamed the beasts of the night; she who owns a tame angel of the Lord.

His shoulders want to hunch, to escape the agony of his butchered back. But his spine must be straight, lest she breaks it again. So long has he spent paralyzed in the dark.

“You are dismissed,” Queen Lilith commands after a long while. Long enough for his atrophied muscles to shake in fatigue. Long enough to make him want to curl up in the dark again; to hide away from the thousands of invasive eyes tracing his body with want.

The lower demons and Lilim scatter back to their appointed tasks, unflinchingly loyal to their queen. When they’ve all gone, Mistress Lilith turns back to him. “Finally,” she sighs, “I thought we’d never be through with that nonsense. Now,” she wraps her arms around him, molding her clothed body to his naked one, her sharp gaze piercing, “I could use some fun after all of that tedium.” She strokes his face, his neck, his shoulder. Down his side, feather soft yet painful all the same. He bites back a whimper.

His body begins trembling out of his control as she leads him away, down an all too familiar path. He is unsure why his body betrays him so, when sex hurts so much less than everything else. 

Mistress Lilith leads him to her chambers. She unclasps his collar, letting it drop to the floor. The sound it makes is deafening. She retrieves a bottle from a shelf and pushes it into his hands, “Drink.” He tips it back without question, letting the drug take hold. It’s meant to make the blood rush south, yet also leaves his mind blessedly fuzzy. She steps out of her dress; her perfect, unblemished body on display.

“Touch me,” she commands. So he does.

“Kiss me.” He does this too, but cannot fully reciprocate. Not without his tongue. She doesn’t seem to mind, though. Exploring his mutilated mouth with her intact muscle.

She pushes him down onto the lavish bed, breaking their kiss to straddle his hips. He moves in tandem with her the way she likes, and she rewards him with praises instead of punishments.

He then lets his drug-addled thoughts fully drift away, only present enough to obey her directions. Changes in position or location pass by in a haze. He only knows that she takes her pleasure, again and again.

He comes back to himself, mind clearing against his will. Mistress Lilith holds his lax, sore body and pets his damp hair with deceptive tenderness. “Such a good boy,” she coos into his ear. 

He grieves into her chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.
> 
> This is a part of a larger series that actually has nice things in it. Like: Lucifer escaping Hell and meeting Chloe, getting therapy, and discovering blanket burritos. Next part is currently a work in progress, so consider this a teaser :)


End file.
